Caution
by Chelbi
Summary: Kurt Hummel was planning on staying far away from the bubbles the foam gun would produce during their number - his hair depended on it. But for better or for worse, Blaine Anderson has a different idea…


Kurt glanced around the large warehouse as the rest of the Warblers milled about, fixing their ties or practicing a dance step. He still couldn't understand how they had managed to find this place on such short notice, or how they had managed to convince a group of girls from another school to come meet them. _At the abandoned warehouse_.

What was wrong with some people?

A loud squeak drew the boys' attention, turning to look toward the doors currently being pushed aside by no fewer than a dozen girls, all glancing around the room expectantly but attempting to keep their faces collected. One of them locked eyes with Blaine - Kurt shifted with a grimace - and strode forward purposefully, the other girls following and ending up in a sort of line before the 'stage' the Warblers had set up earlier that afternoon.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room as the girls looked them over, waiting for someone to say something, and finally Blaine fell out of the line - Kurt didn't miss Wes's 'encouraging' shove - to take the stage in front of the girls.

Blaine stuck his hands in his pockets as casually as possible, put on his performance face, and spoke. "We'd like to welcome the girls of our sister school, Crawford Country Day."

He continued speaking, but Kurt's attention waned. He'd heard this speech enough the past few days, listened to Blaine tweaking it as he tweaked all his performances, making sure every word was perfectly picked. Instead he noticed the boys around him and the faces they made at the girls. Someone on his left - Jeff, maybe? - adjusted his jacket a little more forcefully than necessary.

Oh, but the girls were smiling, and Blaine was walking back over to them, grin plastered on his face. _Clearly_, Kurt thought, _he's not worried about us being sexy_.

He flicked his hair back a little as the beat-boxing began, the Warblers jogging up the stairs and down onto their respective platforms. He turned in time with everyone else, watching Blaine appear at the top of the platform and swing the foam gun on his first line. The song blurred a bit as Blaine made his way down the tiers, the girls on the floor beginning to squeal.

_You think that's good, ladies_, Kurt thought to himself, hopping down from his own platform, _just watch this_.

"I do it every time, you're killing me now," he sang, rolling his hips - he didn't catch Blaine's curious look at his side. "And I won't be denied by you: the animal inside of you."

They continued like that through the chorus, Kurt making his 'best' moves known to the girls and always missing the "what in the world" looks Blaine kept throwing at him. Until suddenly they reached the bridge, and they locked eyes over the fingers at their lips. They crossed paths, back up onto the tiers, and went for broke - the foam gun sprang to life, covering the Warblers (and the girls, who had run up to join the dancing) in foam.

Blaine's eyes immediately lit up brighter, glancing down at the dancing, and back up to Kurt in almost perfect imitation of a puppy with a new toy. Kurt smiled back, but inwardly knew he was staying as far away from those suds as possible - his hair took him an hour each morning to do, he wasn't going to have it washed out in five minutes.

But Blaine was persistent - almost as soon as Kurt's feet touched the ground, skirting around the edges of the mess, a beach ball came flying out of nowhere and smacked him in the shoulder. He managed to keep most of the bubbles that followed away from his hair, but already he had seen Blaine's devilish grin and noticed that the other boy had disappeared from sight.

His 'danger' meter immediately went off.

And then there it was, Blaine's voice, loud and altogether too close for comfort right behind his shoulder, and quickly he threw the ball in that direction and ran the other way, dodging some blazer-less Warblers and hearing the last strains of the song fade into the air.

The notes were quickly replaced by giggling and applause, and the girls disentangled themselves from the Warblers. After several assurances that _yes, they were scream-worthy _and _yes, you made our knees turn to jelly_, they turned and strode away, casting meaningful glances back at some of the boys. The Warblers quickly began cleaning up the majority of the mess, several of them disappearing after the girls, and Kurt went to sit on one of the platforms to check his hair. _Ha_, _Blaine Warbler, you didn't get one over on me this time._

"Call us." His blue eyes glanced up at the voice, and saw two girls holding up slips of paper toward Blaine, who accepted them with a smile and said,

"Sweet, but… not on your team."

Kurt couldn't quite suppress the smirk that worked its way onto his face. And then Blaine walked over to him and the smirk widened into a smile - until the other boy opened his mouth. "What was that? You kept making all those… weird faces…"

".. Those weren't weird faces," Kurt insisted, looking at Blaine like he'd just grown another head, "those were my sexy faces."

"It just looked like you were having gas pains, or something."

"Great." He slapped his comb down on the platform, frowning deeply. "How are we supposed to go to regionals and sell sexy to the judges when I have as much sexual appeal and knowledge as a baby penguin?"

Without missing a beat, Blaine smiled and said, "We'll figure something out."

And then Kurt looked up at him. And Blaine wasn't sure why, but suddenly he felt like really the conversation should move again and oh hey, there _was_ quite a mess to clean up around them. "But first we should do something about this foam, shouldn't we?" he said, suppressing a nervous chuckle and turning back to where he thought the Warblers were waiting.

"Oh, they snuck out a while ago, didn't you see?" Kurt interjected, standing and pocketing his comb. "Most of them chased right after the girls, but a few waited until you were distracted by your would-be suitors." Blaine shot him a look, reaching for one of the balls lying abandoned on the nearest platform. Kurt's eyes narrowed immediately. "Don't you dare."

And the manic grin was back. Kurt's warning cry of "_Blaine!_" was promptly ignored and the ball flung at his head. He barely got his arms up in time to deflect it, and by then Blaine had already rushed at him, having scooped up some of the extra foam in one hand.

But the warehouse floor was concrete, and had basically been drowned in soap minutes before. So when Blaine's shoe made contact with it, it went straight out from under him, and he grabbed the closet thing he could to maintain balance - which ended up sending both him and Kurt sprawling into the mess of bubbles left on the ground.

Kurt barely had the time to register that his hair must now be _ruined_ before he had also registered that Blaine had not only fallen too, but that he had fallen precisely _on top of_ him and was currently too distracted by the bubbles in his face to notice. And then there was a pause - Kurt almost _heard _the click in Blaine's head as he realized what happened and where he was - and then his face appeared above the foam as he sat stock-straight again.

"Whoops!" he said a little too brightly, performance exterior cracking just slightly as Kurt watched. "Sorry about that and, uh, this. Should've known, with the foam and all, the concrete would get wet - SLIPPERY, the concrete would get _slippery_."

Kurt swallowed the laugh that was threatening to break his pokerface and instead said, "Well, that's what you get for threatening my hair."

Though Kurt had to admit, if _this_ was the end result of that, maybe he could put up with Blaine's attempts to muss his hair just a little more often.


End file.
